Hallowed shorts
by Oriko
Summary: Short stories set in spaceman's Halloween-verse.
1. Thirteen

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine

Author's Note: Please read and review. Bonus points to anyone who correctly guesses where the inspiration for the main characters came from (there's a clue in the title).

In the British Isles there is wealth of folklore regarding roads and the things that haunt them. Railways, being the product of the industrial revolution, generally didn't, at least not in the UK. In the pre-Halloween world this counted for nothing of course, after all, stories or the absence thereof had no bearing on matters of practicality. Then Halloween happened and all the stories became real. Refugees needed to be moved around and the roads were often too dangerous, inhabited by their own unique menaces as well as the usual ones, the most the trains usually had to face was the occasional ghost train and the various threats that could be found everywhere in the New World. Not to mention that they often had the Law of Superior Tonnage on their side, with many monsters finding that their existence didn't end with a bang or a whimper, but with a very loud splat.

So it was easier to see why the trains were often considered to be the safer option for those who had no choice but to travel outside the walls of a refuge. Not many lines were actually running, many were permanently crippled by damage and the fact that most of the people who knew how to operate the trains were either dead or buried under new personalities, but the ones that were still going hauled hundreds of passengers every week, sealed up inside carriages covered in improvised armour. Train times and schedules were a thing of the past, if you wanted to catch a train all you could do was go to the station and hope that you weren't still sitting around waiting twelve hours later.

Eight year old Lauren had been waiting for almost four hours, one of a crowd of children who were waiting to be taken to a new fort, their parents having either been killed or replaced by characters who hadn't the slightest interest in looking after anyone. Either way, they were orphans, some altered, some not. Lauren fell into the latter category. Tired and hungry, she shifted uncomfortably on the hard bench.

"You alright," asked a rather deep voice, dark eyes looking at her with concern.

Ben was all she had left. Like her parents he'd been changed by Halloween but he'd stayed with her and done his best to look after her, although when she'd tried to tell people that most of them had given her funny looks for some reason. Lauren didn't care. He was her friend and he kept her safe. When the bad guy who'd replaced her dad had tried to hurt her, Ben had been the one to fight him off, hurling himself at him and chasing him out of the house. When she got scared he was the one who comforted her.

Looking down at the dark haired young man sitting on the ground by her feet, she put on a brave face.

"Yeah. When's the train going to come?"

Ben scratched at his ear.

"I don't know. Soon I hope. I hope there's food, I'm getting hungry."

"Me too."

A little way away a couple of older kids gave her odd looks. She ignored them.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm not sure. Don't worry, it'll be an adventure. There's probably all sorts of good things there, like chocolate."

"You're not allowed chocolate, it's bad for you."

"Humph."

The two boys sitting next to her got up and wandered off. Lauren tugged Ben's jumper.

"Hmm?"

"You can sit up here now."

"What about the boys?"

Lauren shrugged.

"They've gone."

"Okay then."

Ben jumped into the empty seat and curled up, legs tucked up in front of him. Lauren snuggled up against his side, comfortable at last.

They stayed in that position until the train arrived some time later. It was a huge, ugly, diesel powered thing, three carriages long with only a few spots of the original paintwork visible under the muddy coloured armour, the windows erased by plates of sheet metal. The brakes squealed as it pulled into the station, causing Ben to grimace and flinch. Everyone else gave a collective sigh of weary relief and started to file towards the train doors, shabby, shell-shocked looking normals mixing with those who'd caught the full brunt of the spell. Lauren and Ben drifted trainwards somewhere near the back of the orphan group. By some unspoken agreement, the assorted adults stood aside to let the children on first. A tired looking guard, his name tag identifying him as Wedge, watched them file past, smiling slightly when he saw a girl with a large black Labrador.

"Nice dog you've got there."

Lauren nodded. Ben just snorted.


	2. Drinks and Devils

Disclaimer: If you recognise it it's not mine.

Following the Halloween Event, the world's population took a nosedive with those lucky enough and/or tough enough to survive crowding into protected colonies. As a result, the areas of human (and humanoid) habitation became a good deal more spaced out with the no-man's-land between occupied by every horror that the human imagination had ever thought of and a far few that weren't. Consequently travelling between the colonies both took longer and those who did so took their lives into their own hands, although the level of difficulty involved varied from country to country due to differences in geography and the concentration of monsters.

However, there were things that made life easier for those brave, desperate or determined enough to travel in the New World, the main one being the existence of rest-stops, places where the weary, shaken and possibly somewhat battered traveller could take a break, have a drink and a meal, get patched up and keep an ear open for any information. Some, like Yubaba's bathhouse, and the World's End Free House existed outside what passed for 'normal reality' and could be accessed from more or less anywhere provided you knew how to find them. Since the Event establishments of this kind had experienced a dramatic surge in both business and long term residents, the latter usually hoping to wait out the worst of the global weirdness in relative safety and comfort.

Other examples were rather more down to earth and were set up by individuals who for one reason or another had the means to do so and somehow managed to remain business minded even when surrounded by the products of chaos. Running these places usually consisted of keeping the food and booze flowing and making sure that the trouble stayed outside.

One such establishment existed several miles south of what was left of Cleveland, Ohio. The proprietors were a trio of friends from New Castle, Pennsylvania. On Halloween they'd received last minute invitations to a party, although only one of them had bothered to wear a costume, a rather thrown together approximation of a warlock. When the spell hit, Mike had acquired an appropriate collection of skills, knowledge and power, although the generic nature of the costume allowed him to keep his personality intact. His friends Tony and Brett, while costume-less, had also been altered due to a rather unique variation of the proximity effect. At another party a couple of blocks away, a couple of costumed party goers had been transformed in to characters from Alan Moore's Top Ten, a comic that was basically a police procedural that happened to be set in a city where everyone, from politicians to pickpockets had some sort of superpower. The spell took this detail and ran with it, with the result that everyone in the city who wasn't wearing a costume remained the same in terms of personality but found themselves with some sort of superpower (also, the Doberman down the street from the party gained about a hundred IQ points and started talking). In the case of Tony and Brett, they ended up with telepathy and telekinesis respectively, although exactly why they got those particular powers remained a mystery and the topic of much debate.

Although the exceptionally high concentration of super powered or at least super skilled inhabitants leant New Castle a certain degree of security from the menaces of the outside world, albeit one that carried the complication of super powered crooks, the idea of hiding wasn't one which sat particularly well with the three friends. Plus Mike had cast a spell of questionable legality which convinced them that it might be a good idea to put some distance between themselves and a city with a super powered police force. The reports of long hazardous journeys from incoming refugees and envoys had given them an idea and after a certain amount of deliberation, they set up shop in an old roadside diner, doing a slow but steady trade in providing food and drink to lost refugees and anyone travelling between colonies. Mike had the place heavily warded, Tony took bartending to a new level by having the drinks ready before the order was placed and watched out for anyone thinking of causing trouble, while Brett used his ability to be very lazy about waiting tables and occasionally boot out troublemakers. The fact that the customers usually included a few badasses added another level of security. If there was one thing the friends had discovered it was that no matter what piece of fiction they came from, most people didn't like having their drinks disturbed. So far one werewolf, two demons and a very moody pyro had learnt this the hard way. The proprietors were quite happy with this and why shouldn't they be? After all they got what amounted to free security.

On this particular day however, they noticed that a few of the potential trouble makers were being unusually quiet. It didn't take them long to realize that the cause was a small group of red-coated, white haired, not-quite-identical young men gathered round the bar. To the casual, uninformed observer they looked like they could be brothers, but this misperception would only last until someone said 'Dante' and the whole group looked up.

The presence of four versions of the same character in the bar was in no way planned or deliberate, instead, through some strange quirk of fate they'd just accumulated. The first one to arrive looked about seventeen and had turned up just under a week ago with a busted motorcycle and was determinedly staying put until either he found someone to fix it, or someone came along who had enough space in their vehicle to transport a crippled bike and its rider. The second was a little older and had arrived a couple of days later, and hadn't moved on yet due to a combination of alcohol consumption and not having any idea as to where they were going. The third and fourth half-devil's had made their appearance a couple of hours ago on a bus from what was formerly known as Cincinnati but now called Citadel City, containing a mixture of envoys, bodyguards and various waifs and strays picked up en route. Of the Dantes on the bus, one was from Citadel City while the other had been picked up just outside Canton along with a boy he'd rescued from a group of Jack O'Lanterns (he hadn't been in time to save the boy's mother and brother. It was an event which hit far too close to home for the half-devil). The bus had be intended to make contact with a colony to the east but due to having to take multiple detours because of monster related road damage had managed to get hopelessly lost. While Mike did his best to put them back on track, the bus's occupants took the opportunity to get a drink and stretch their legs. Needless to say, the discovery to two more Dante's had been a surprise for both sides.

Now, given that the Halloween event had resulted in there being multiple versions of the same character, meeting 'yourself' was, relatively speaking, a fairly common occurrence. Reactions differed. A few were hostile towards their other selves; awkwardness was very common, while others took it in stride. The Dantes were firmly in the last category and were currently quite happily reminiscing, comparing notes and working their way through a couple of pitchers of beer.

"The world's gone crazy. I didn't think it was possible for things to be weirder then they were but it's happened. I'd be happy about all the business coming my way, but I don't have the shop, there's a whole load of competition and most of the time I don't get paid."

"There wouldn't be much point if you were. Money doesn't have much value these days. Look on the bright side. No money, no debt."

Three of the four smiled slightly at the thought. The fourth's frown went unnoticed.

"That reminds me. Any of you know if Lady or Trish are out there?"

The Dante who'd frowned nodded.

"I don't know about Trish, but Lady's back in Citadel City."

"Heh. I wonder if she's realized that she can't use us as her personal ATM anymore."

This time the City Dante's grimace didn't go unnoticed.

"What's up?"

"You know how we all used to be someone else?"

Nods all round.

"Well it seems that the person who I used to be and the person Lady used to be were going to get married in November."

"So?"

"The reason they were getting married was that the girl was pregnant."

The implication sunk in.

"It carried over?"

"What do you think? Lady was furious when she found out and guess who got all the blame."

The other three winced in sympathy.

"So are you two a couple then?"

The City Dante shrugged.

"I'm not sure. Things are still pretty confused, plus Lady keeps threatening to castrate me if I come anywhere near her. That's why I'm on bodyguard duty, to give us a chance to get our heads straightened out and for her to cool off a bit before we figure out what we're going to do."

"So she's having it then?"

"Yeah. I think whatever's left of who she used to be put her foot down. The poor kid's doomed."

The other three nodded in agreement. Deciding that something stronger then beer was in order, one of them started to call over the bartender, only to see that Tony was already heading towards them with a bottle of whisky and four glasses.

A/N: Don't ask me where this came from. My rather demented sense of humour is probably to blame for a lot of it.

Regarding World Wide Weird, I seem to have hit a wall. I know where I'm going with it, I'm just having a bit of trouble getting there. Help!


	3. Witch's Cauldron

Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognize isn't mine.

A young man of about eighteen trudges along a deserted road scattered with abandoned cars and wreckage. His appearance is fairly typical for an untransformed person forced to make their way through the post-Halloween world, weighed down with a backpack containing everything he has to his name, his clothes battered and dirty from his journey, sleeping rough and fighting for his life. Slighly more unusual is the cruciform sword carried rather haphazardly at his hip, the only thing holding the naked blade in place being his belt. Every few seconds his hands brush against it, as if to reassure himself that it's still there. But the thing that would probably be most striking to any onlooker is the expression on his face. In contrast to the fear and despair usually found written upon the features of those in his position, it is a look of pure, unadulterated determination.

Eyes warily scanning the surroundings, he breaks from the steady, unrelenting march that he'd been maintaining for the past three hours and takes cover in the narrow gap between a wall and a car turned on its side. Ignoring the now familiar burning in his legs, he catches his breath, pulling a bottle of flat coke from his bag and taking a long drink. His thirst dealt with, he becomes aware of a necessity at the other end of the system and takes care of it before shouldering his bag and moving on. Catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye, he draws his sword and looks around. A thin faced, mousy haired man with a sparsely stubbled chin and green eyes stared at him from out of a broken mirror. Gabriel stares back.

Shaking his head, Gabriel slips the sword back through his belt and continues on his way. In the back of his mind, the vague, silent presence of his sword felt almost amused, or at least Gabriel guessed to be amusement. The presence had been a constant in his life since he'd acquired the sword. He knew nothing of its former bearer except for how they died, the roguish looking fantasy type being swallowed whole by something huge and reptilian while Gabriel stayed hidden, praying that it wouldn't find him and cursing himself for being a coward, not daring to move until the thing's footsteps faded into the distance. He'd retrieved the sword solely because it was a weapon that was a step up from a knife, not realising the skill that would be necessary to wield it effectively. When he realised that it was the source of the newly acquired presence in his head, he'd considered throwing it away but thought better of it. Strangely, the presence (dubbed Cali during a moment of acute boredom on Gabriel's part) seemed to be helping him. He'd lost count of the number of times his life had been saved by being woken by what amounted to a mental kick just in time to escape or defend himself from an attacker, or being in a fight and suddenly becoming aware of someone sneaking up behind him. Having an unexpected visitor in his head was a small price to pay for his survival, which he knew all too well, was largely down to dumb luck to begin with. As time had passed he'd stopped resenting having Cali in his head altogether. He'd started out travelling with others but they'd been picked off (or in the possible case of one Japanese guy, wandered off and got lost), until he was the only one left. That was over a month ago and he hadn't seen anyone who hadn't either wanted to kill him or was otherwise best avoided since then. Cali wasn't much company but it was better than nothing.

Approaching a crossroads, Gabriel paused to check that there wasn't anything lurking around the corners. Sharp eyes scanned the area but they saw no apparent threats and Cali remained quiet. Grunting, he marched across the road and continued on in a straight line. He didn't know when he was going and he didn't particularly care. All that mattered was that he kept moving, kept living. All he knew was that nothing good lay behind him.

In the back of his mind, Cali gave him a warning nudge. Gabriel crouched down next to the wreck of a car and tried to locate the danger. His eyes and ears picked up nothing but he sensed a tell-tale change in the air that painful experience had taught him was the early sign of an oncoming fire shower. Straightening, he started looking for somewhere to take cover. Last time he had been quite quick enough and was still bearing the consequences, every patch of exposed skin was red raw and peeling, clumsily treated with antiseptic ointment. His hands were wrapped in gauze and covered with gardening gloves.

Picking a house at random, he drew his sword and broke in. Inside, the house seemed eerily undisturbed. Two pairs of shoes, a man's dress shoes and a child's lace-ups lay next to the door, right where their owners had left them. Halloween decorations adorned the windows and a bowl containing a few miniature chocolate bars rested on a small table. The illusion of normality was harshly twisted when he entered the kitchen and was hit by the smell of decay. On the table, dinner plates full of partly eaten food festered while a bowl of fruit slowly rotted into mush. Of the family who'd been eating, there was no sign.

The warning in the air grew stronger. Doing his best to ignore the scene of corrupted domesticity, Gabriel moved towards a likely looking door and cautiously opened it. On the other side, a staircase reached down into the darkness.

Pressed against the wall next to the door, Gabriel peered down into the darkness. All sorts of things could be lurking down there and he didn't fancy avoiding getting burnt only to end up getting eaten. However, he couldn't see anything in the basement, even when he used his torch and changed his viewing angle, Cali was quiet except for a faint restlessness that he put down to it reminding him of the impending fireshower, and the air temperature had started to rise at an alarming rate. He went down into the basement.

Below ground it was noticeably cooler, a good sign. Reaching the bottom of the stairs he shone the torch around to double check that there wasn't anything down there with him, and froze. Red eyes stared at him from under the stairs. The position explained why he hadn't spotted anything earlier but there was still the matter of Cali not reacting. Then he noticed who the eyes belonged to. Curled up against the wall was a young boy with longish black hair who despite the fairly obvious fact that he'd only just woken up was regarding Gabriel with thoughtful wariness.

"Who are you?"

The boy's voice held a trace of some sort of accent and a lot of suspicion. Gabriel did his best to look friendly.

"My name's Gabriel. Sorry to barge in but the place seemed abandoned and I need somewhere to take shelter. I'd leave but it's not the kind of weather you want to be walking around in up there."

The boy didn't respond. Deciding to take the silence as permission to stay, Gabriel made his way towards the corner of the room opposite the stairs and sat down. Leaning back against the wall, he sighed before commencing what had become standard routine for any time he had a chance to stay in one place for more than a couple of minutes; have a drink, eat something, tend to any injuries and get some sleep. Finishing off the bottle of coke, he made a start on a can of juice. Sipping his drink, he looked up at his unexpected room-mate and held up another can.

"Want a drink?

The boy shook his head.

"Sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay then. Just let me know if you change your mind."

Moving on to step two, he rummaged through his rather limited provisions, settling on a chunk of salami, crackers and a small packet of dried fruit.

"I don't suppose you want anything."

Another head shake.

"Suit yourself."

After wolfing down his food so fast that it was almost a miracle that he didn't choke, he moved on to step three, taking care of injuries. A lack of clean dressings prevented him from doing anything about his hands, so he settled for putting another later of cream on the sunburn like damage to his face, and tending to a rubbed raw patch on his ankle, doing his best to ignore the fact that his every move was being watched with suspicion verging on hostility. Deciding that he probably wasn't going to get any sleep in this situation, he made another attempt at breaking the ice.

"Hey kid, what's your name?"

There was a lengthy pause.

"Vlad."

"Good name."

Vlad made a non-committal noise. Gabriel decided to cut to the chase.

"Look, I have absolutely no intention of hurting you. As I said earlier I just came down here to wait out the condensed heat wave that's going on above ground and that's all I want to do. I don't know what's happened to you in the past but none of it has anything to do with me. The only reason I'd ever attack anyone is if it was in self-defence. I especially would never hurt a kid. How old are you anyway?"

"Twelve."

That was a surprise. Judging by his size, Gabriel had been inclined to place his age at around eight or nine, maybe even younger. On the other hand, he sounded older then he looked.

"As I said, I'd never harm someone your age. So if you don't want to be friendly that's fine but would you please stop looking at me like I'm going to bite your head off or something. It's making me uncomfortable and I need to get some sleep. You stay on your side of the room and I'll stay on mine. Deal?"

"Agreed."

"Okay then."

Gabriel made himself as comfortable as possible, sword within easy reach, and, trusting Cali to wake him up if necessary, closed his eyes.

It wasn't a proper sleep, more of a doze since even chronic sleep deprivation could beat sleeping on concrete while paranoid. When he awoke, the temperature in the basement was uncomfortably high and he had a few new aches and pains from sleeping on a hard surface. Groaning, he sat up and looked at his watch. He'd been asleep for just over half an hour, not bad by his current standards. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he noticed that Vlad had moved closer and was currently standing watching him. His body language spoke volumes, reminding Gabriel of a boy who used to go to school with him until social services took him away because his dad was a scumbag. It wasn't just the boy's body language that told an unpleasant story; now that he was standing Gabriel noticed things that he hadn't spotted earlier. Vlad's clothes were dirty and ragged, his feet bare. Gabriel found himself thinking of the child's shoes that he'd scene when he came in and whether or not they'd fit Vlad. Catching his eye, Gabriel smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. Vlad surprised him by smiling back, a pair of pointed canines poking over his lip.

Gabriel blinked. Red eyes, fangs, almost definitely a vampire. The name was a pretty strong hint as well. He must've been more tired than he realised not to have put it together earlier. He shook his head. It didn't matter. If Vlad had been planning on biting him he could've done it while he was asleep or at least tried to. Cali hadn't woken him up so it was safe to assume that he hadn't tried anything. Besides, vampire or not he was still a twelve year old kid. That raised another question, what was he going to do when it was safe for him to get going. He couldn't just leave him on his own.

"Is this your house?

"Hmm?"

"This house, is it yours?"

Vlad shook his head.

"I got in through an open window. I was looking for somewhere to sleep and the house was empty."

"Where did you come from?"

Vlad hesitated then told him. How he'd be a captive before suddenly finding himself outside in a strange place surrounded by monsters. How he'd had to run and fight. How he'd realised that his eyes and teeth had changed. How he'd seen other people but they'd taken one look at his altered appearance and driven him away.

"Is this hell?"

Gabriel shook his head.

"I don't think so. For one thing I don't remember dying and for another I doubt that hell has shops, even abandoned ones."

Vlad nodded.

"I've told you my story, what's yours?"

Gabriel shrugged.

"I was in my room studying when people started screaming. I looked out the window and saw that everything had gone to hell. Stayed put for a day or so but I didn't have any food so I left to look for some. Met a bunch of other survivors and stayed with them, when they started heading south I went with them. I'm the only one left, the monsters got everyone else. I don't know why I survived and they didn't. After that I just kept walking. I don't have any destination in mind but I figure that as long as I'm moving I haven't been beaten and there's a chance that there might be somewhere safe up ahead. Even if there isn't I'm not going to give up".

Unknown to Gabriel, his words struck a chord with the young vampire who regarded him with a new level of respect, something which had an effect on how he responded to what Gabriel said next.

"You know, since neither of us are actually going anywhere we may as well go there together. I don't know about you but I'm getting sick of not having anyone to talk to except myself."

Gabriel was careful to avoid mentioning anything that might suggest that he thought Vlad needed looking after, firstly because he probably didn't, after all he'd managed on his own so far, and secondly because he'd dealt with younger cousins enough to know that using anything that even remotely resembled the 'you're just a kid' argument tended to backfire.

"So anyway, what I'm asking is, do you want to come with me?"

Vlad considered the offer. Truth was, he disliked being on his own as much as Gabriel seemed to, although he'd been alone since long before he'd awoken in this place, and a man who'd walked through hell and still had the strength of will to keep going was probably a man worth knowing.

"Yes."

Gabriel grinned.

"Okay then. We'll leave as soon as it cools down up there."

Privately Gabriel started making a mental list of things that would need to be dealt with. Clothes were near the top of the list, what Vlad was wearing looked like it might fall apart in the not too distant future. Then there was the food issue. He wasn't entirely sure whether or not Vlad ate normally, if he did then he'd have to put twice as much effort into finding food, and if his guess about him being a vampire was accurate and he didn't, that still left the blood issue. Resolving to cross that bridge when he came to it, he decided to put the rest of his enforced immobility to good use. So for the next couple of hours he made repairs to his clothing and equipment, checked the basement for anything that might be useful and didn't find anything, made progressively less awkward small talk with Vlad, added the finishing touches to a cardboard and duct tape approximation of a scabbard (which Vlad was less then flattering about), tried to sleep, and did his best to avoid overheating in the increasingly stuffy basement.

Eventually though, the temperature started to drop as rapidly as it had risen, Gabriel's cue to resume his battle with the road. Shouldering his back pack, Cali resting in the newly finished scabbard tied to his belt, he headed up the stairs. Vlad, currently devoid of possessions, followed behind.

As soon as he opened the door, Gabriel realised that they had a problem. A thin haze of smoke filled the kitchen with more drifting in from the hallway. It didn't take a genius to realize that there was a fire upstairs. While not really a major issue from his point of view it did effectively stop his plans to search the house for anything worth taking, including clothes for Vlad. Grunting in irritation, he led his new travelling companion out the back door.

Outside was a typical post-fire shower scene. Comparatively speaking this one hadn't been that bad, only three houses were visibly on fire and none of the blazes was particularly advanced. Several more cars were burning, filling the air with noxious smoke. Gabriel coughed and wrapped a damp bandana around the lower half of his face, passing Vlad his spare.

Half an hour's jog put them outside of the town and away from the worst of the smoke. Bandana still firmly in place, Gabriel slowed down to his usual energy efficient pace, Vlad easily keeping up.

The monster appeared suddenly, Cali giving him just enough warning to dodge the initial attack and draw his sword. Taking a swing at the beast's yellowy-grey hide, he met with failure as his blade bounced off it. The monster's second attack knocked him flying and he hit the ground with a thump.

Before he could recover though, everything went quiet. Struggling to his feet, he was greeted by the sight of the monster lying torn open on the road and a blood splattered Vlad standing there with a vaguely concerned look on his face. Gabriel put two and two together.

"You are a deeply freaky kid," he deadpanned.

With that he resheathed Cali, and, limping slightly, continued down the road. After a moment he paused and called over his shoulder.

"Come on then."

Vlad was next to him almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Gabriel looked down at him.

"Thank you."

Vlad smiled.


	4. Determinator

Disclaimer: As always, if you recognise it, it isn't mine.

A/N: As always concrit is welcome, as are reviews of all types (except flames of course, well unless they're justified). Bonus points to anyone who spots the Meaningful Name (or more accurately, the name resulting from the author's weird sense of humour).

It lurked beneath the road, mouth upwards, waiting for the unwary to approach and be easily swallowed by its maw. It had been some time since its last meal and the ever present hunger had become increasingly pressing. However it was a patient creature. It could wait; food would be along sooner or later. It always was.

Sure enough it felt the faint vibrations that heralded approaching prey and primed itself to pounce. The rhythmic thumping came closer and closer until it was almost on top of it. With a surge it rose up though the ground, mouth parts ready to snatch its prey.

Only to feel a sudden, agonising bolt of pain followed by oblivion as a sword was driven downwards, though its mouth and into its brain, twisted and pulled out, without its presumed dinner even breaking stride. A moment later a pair of child sized boots did a thorough job of reducing its mouth parts to pulp, although given that the sword wound was almost certainly fatal this was largely unnecessary.

Gabriel flicked some unidentified gore of his blade and gave it a quick wipe with a tissue before resheathing it, mentally thanking Cali for the heads up. He didn't have to look to know when Vlad had caught up. The young vampire looked better than he had when they'd first met, having traded in his rags for new clothes and boots liberated from an abandoned department store. Gabriel was almost certain that he was feeding, although what off was a question that he never asked. Given their circumstances and the state of the world in general though he was largely confident that anyone who had suffered death by fangs probably deserved it. Truth be told, it was a subject that he preferred not to dwell on, focusing instead on his own survival and keeping up his gruelling pace in pursuit of the horizon. He and Vlad seldom talked while they were walking, conversation was saved for when they were stationary and even then it was often stilted. Vlad was chatty enough when he felt like it but Gabriel had always been the taciturn type. They may not have talked much, but they were both glad of the others presence since even walking through hell was easier to bear when you had company and another pair of eyes to look out for trouble.

They slogged onwards for another couple of hours, the scorched fields eventually giving way to a tiny, 'blink-and-you'll-miss-it' town that was largely wrecked and apparently abandoned. Finding a miraculously intact bench they stopped long enough for Gabriel to have a drink, eat a protein bar and give his body a chance to pay off some of the oxygen debt. As soon as the burning in his legs had faded back to tolerable levels, they were off, periodically checking the more intact buildings for anything that might be useful. Walking towards a house with a flattened white picket fence which looked pink in the dull red light, Gabriel felt the mental shock that came from Cali picking up something with hostile intent and drew his sword, every muscle coiled for action.

"Something's coming. Get ready."

Vlad nodded, a strange smirk on his lips.

For a moment everything was quiet, the only sounds Gabriel's breathing and the thump of his heart beat. Then the ground shuddered under their feet as a jumbo jet sized creature that looked like a cross between a wolf and some sort of insect leapt out from a gaping hole in the top floor of a nearby house. Noticing the two figures it fixed them with a look that roughly translated as 'oh look, a snack' and lunged.

What happened next was rather confused, with Gabriel doing his best to avoid the creature's snapping jaws and do as much damage of his own as he could. He lost track of Vlad but if the splashes of gore on the ground and the creature's periodic stumbles were any indication he was dishing out his own share of violence.  
Wielding his sword in a manner probably more suited to a club, Gabriel succeeded in knocking out a couple of the thing's teeth, only to overbalance when dodging a swiping set of claws and hit the ground. The thing went in for the kill, giving Gabriel a good view of the damage he'd inflicted to its mouth, when suddenly it froze and collapsed, purple blood gushing from several large wounds. Unfortunately for Gabriel, the thing's rock hard jaw landed heavily on his leg. There was a sickening crunch and he let out a single bellow of pain.

Attempting to pull his leg out resulted in more pain and the discovery that the limb was well and truly pinned. He was just starting to try and pry the creature's jaw up, using Cali as an impromptu crowbar, when a pair of purple stained hands grabbed the head and, with some effort, lifted it up enough to free his leg. Gabriel scooted backwards, every jolt sending fresh shocks of pain up his leg. Inspecting the damage, he was dismayed at what he found. The limb was definitely broken, in at least two places by the look of things, although the skin was intact and it seemed like the breaks were fairly clean. Cursing under his breath, he tried to think of what to do next. Staying put wasn't an option; the smell of blood would soon attract every scavenger in the area. His only choice was to get moving. Looking up he saw Vlad watching him with childlike concern, an expression that jarred with the blood on hands.

"I've got to splint this leg. Can you pass me some of the wood from that fence?"

Vlad nodded and did as he was asked. Gabriel took off his rucksack and started looking for something to bind his leg.

Four Days Later

Since the attacks that accompanied the declaration of war the number of guards manning the colony's walls and gate had been increased, much to the annoyance of the ones doing the manning. It wasn't the possibility of attack that bothered them as much as the tedium. Even in the Post-Event world it was possible to take watch after watch without anything happening and there's only so much staring out at rubble and wasteland that anyone can take.

Which is why when the gate guards spotted something moving down the road towards them they thought that their day was looking up.

"Reckon it's another attack?"

"Can't tell. Doesn't look like there's many of them though."

The guard grabbed a pair of binoculars and looked though them.

"Nope. As I thought, there's only two of them. One looks like a kid and the other's injured, bust leg by the look of things."

The guard continues to watch as the crippled figure limped along, leaning on a makeshift crutch. After a minute or two he stumbles and falls flat on his face, only to immediately haul himself back onto his feet with help from his companion. Even from this distance it was easy to see that he had to be in pain but he kept moving, inch by agonizing inch. A few more yards down the road he falls down again, and again he picks himself up and resumes hobbling down the road.

"Should we send a car out?"

"I don't know. For all we know he could be bait to get us to open the gates."

"But what if they're not and something grabs them before they can reach the gate?"

The guard looks back out at the figure stubbornly making its way towards them and reaches a decision. Putting down the binoculars, he picked up one of the radios modified to operate despite the interference from the Red Sky.

"This is Bernardo. I've got two unidentified individuals approaching from the North. As far as I can tell they're non-hostile. At least one of them is injured and they're still some distance away so it might be a good idea to send a car out to pick them up before something pops up and eats them."

"Roger."

A few minutes later the gate was opened just enough to allow an armoured SUV to get though. Although too small and insufficiently protected for long distance travel (a role better left to the buses) it was ideal for occasions where it was necessary to go outside the walls without going very far. Once it was clear, the gate was swiftly closed behind it and the SUV sped off towards the two walkers.

Gabriel hit the ground with a grunt. A couple of days ago it would've triggered a bout of cursing but profanity seemed somewhat pointless after he'd fallen over for the umpteenth time. It was somewhat inevitable really, one leg more or less had to do the work of two and exhaustion had taken its toll on that one. The impact sent a jolt of pain though his broken leg but pain of one sort or another had been a virtual constant since Halloween and he'd learned to live with it. Gritting his teeth, he got up so that he was kneeling on his 'good' leg and between using his crutch and Vlad's help managed to pull himself upright. A lesser (and/or saner) individual would probably take falling over three times in under five minutes as a sign that they should take a break but Gabriel was a man on a mission. He could see the walls of what appeared to be some sort of stronghold in front of him and he'd made up his mind not to stop until he reached them. No number of falls or the resulting bruises and scrapes would ever convince him otherwise. He limped on, head down, jaw clenched tight against the pain. The sound of an engine made him look up but not stop. It wasn't over until they was on the other side of the walls and until then they had to keep taking care of themselves, which in this instance meant reaching the wall. If help was on its way then good, if it wasn't then it didn't matter, they could manage without it.

When the SUV drove up to them and pulled to a halt however, it seemed like stopping might be a good idea after all, particularly when the door opened and a dark haired young woman offered them a ride back to the colony. Neither of them replied straight away. Walking through hell on Earth has a way of making you paranoid and Gabriel just stood there for a moment sizing up both the woman and the SUV. The vehicle was fairly impressive looking while woman looked fairly ordinary, though that didn't mean much. Both males had seen enough to know that these days judging a book by its cover was a Bad Idea.

The woman and the driver sitting beside her were, for their part, somewhat mystified. In front of them was a pale, thin kid who looked to be about nine or so judging by his size carrying a backpack that was too big for him, and a ragged, grimy scarecrow of a man with a crutch and a leg in a splint made out bits of fence and duct tape, who looked like he'd passed the 'dead on his feet' stage some time ago, his face ashen, and marred by both fresh bruises and scraps and an eyebrow that was more scar then eyebrow. They'd offered to help them and here they were actually thinking about it.

Gabriel had reached his decision. Either way they were going to the colony so they may as well do it in some comfort. Cali was quiet so they apparently weren't a threat and if it turned out to be wrong, he could always brain them with his sword and/or sic Vlad on them (although the actually siccing would probably be unnecessary, the vampire generally didn't need telling about that sort of thing). Looking the women in the eye he nodded.

"Okay."

"Hurry up and get in then."

One of the rear doors was opened and with a certain amount of difficulty Gabriel climbed in and settled down on the seat. Vlad got in after him with a look on his face like he wasn't sure what to make of the vehicle but would quite like to find out. Doors shut; the driver executed a perfect U-turn and headed back towards the colony. After a few minutes worth of awkward silence, the woman spoke up.

"So what are you called?"

There was a moment's hesitation.

"Vlad."

"Gabriel."

"Either of you got a last name?"

Vlad remained silent. Gabriel adjusted his leg and replied.

"It's Stoker."

By now they'd reached the gates, which started to open.

"Well then Mr. Stoker," said the woman as they drove into the colony, "Welcome to Sunnydale."

A/N: After finishing the last chapter I decided that I wasn't really satisfied with leaving him wandering the earth, so I wrote this. As for why he ended up in Sunnydale, the possibility of Vlad encountering Seras was oddly appealing.


End file.
